Mara: Where Home Is
by Reichenbach
Summary: CHAPTER 5 *FINALLY* UPLOADED!! After a botched operation in Bludhaven, Oracle wants to pull Robin out of the suit.
1. Bouncing, For Fun and Profit

Usual disclaimers  
  
Where Home Is  
  
**  
  
Chapter One: `Bouncing,' For Fun and Profit  
  
Dick paid the pizza delivery man then pocketed the change. He took the oversized box and thanked the man, then closed the door against the cold night air. This was one of the reasons he'd never move to the `burbs--all night pizza delivery.  
  
As he took the box into the living room, he inhaled the smell of sausage, sauce and pineapple. The things he was willing to do for the sake of bonding.  
  
His daughter was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, flipping through the channels.  
  
"There was this weird guy, and he rang the door bell, and he ordered me to take this. Think it's a bomb?"  
  
Mara rolled her eyes and stopped flipping through channels at the cartoon station.  
  
He was batting a thousand tonight, really. "Alright. No more cheesy jokes to make you gag until you're done eating and you have something in your stomach to puke up." Sitting next to her on the carpet, he lifted the lid to the box. He lifted one slice out and handed it to her, then pushed the lid of the box closer to her for a plate. He loved his kid, but his carpet was not going to suffer for the sake of bonding time. "So tell me who these guys are. Who's the lady with the swords?"  
  
"She's the blue guy's mom. And when she gets wet, she's a bad guy, and when she's dry, she's a good guy."  
  
Dick nodded with understanding. "Is the blue guy a good guy or a bad guy?" He was so happy he'd given up cartoons. They'd gotten a lot more complicated in recent years. Whatever happened to Tasmanian devils and talking dogs? "Why's the blue guy pushing that man off a cliff!"  
  
"Oh, that's the blue guy's evil twin brother..."  
  
This show had better NOT be longer than half an hour. "I can see why you like it," Dick said convincingly. He was a good dad. He could bond with his kid.  
  
* * *  
  
Fortunately, the show WAS only half an hour long. Then fate followed that up with having three episodes back to back. About half way through the third one, Mara had finished the last piece of pizza, then curled up next to him on the floor. After the night's events, he wasn't sure if he could get away with it, but Dick pulled her into his lap anyway.  
  
"Do you ever go to bed when you get home from patrol?" he asked as he kissed her head.  
  
"Maybe," she said with a tired yawn. Her eyes closed, and he looked down at her dark eye lashes. Her hair was a very dark red, and her eyelashes were mostly black. They only reflected a little red in the light. Other than that, she had his coloring. She didn't have a freckle to her name, or her mother's perfect white skin. She WAS his. He didn't know why he'd said what he'd said about not being her father, but when he looked at her, he knew.  
  
She was embarrassed by his brand of humor, but she said the same stupid things sometimes. She definitely had his appetite, he noticed as he pushed the empty pizza box away. Who'd have guessed twelve slices wouldn't be enough?  
  
Things had gone well after they'd come home. He said he'd talk to Barbara about private school, and that prospect seemed to sate a lot of her energy. They'd talked about school, how she really didn't WANT an activity, but if she really HAD to, she'd join the chess club. He playfully poked at what was left of the burns on her face while she tried to swat his fingers away, and had proved that he was the best Robin, yet again. It was good actually laugh with her for a change.  
  
Seeing that she was well and truly out, he picked her up and got to his feet. It was time for little Robins to be in bed, and former Robins to go drag their over-working wives away from the computer. Then they could eat breakfast together before Dick dragged himself off for the early shift.  
  
Life was good, Dick realized. His son hadn't turned on his `people are eating while I'm asleep' radar, so they'd had the pizza all to themselves. He and Mara were getting back on a good footing. He'd just gotten a little hysterical there, that's all.  
  
How in the world had Bruce worked with him as a kid? Especially with Bruce being so over-protective? The building had been on fire, and even though it wasn't a bad fire, and the sprinklers were putting it out, he'd panicked and tossed her out of the nearest window. Man, he was annoying. No wonder his kid thought he was a spaz.  
  
As he approached the steps, the sleeping sidekick in his harms turned a little and rubbed her nose. "Don't take me home, Grandpa..."  
  
Never mind, Dick thought. He was a spaz for legitimate reasons.  
  
Ok, what did Bruce have that he didn't have? Besides The Car. He was nice. He watched her stupid cartoons. Bruce sure as heck didn't do that. He took her to work with him and showed her off, and Bruce wouldn't even let her into the office any more since she asked a German business man if she could play with his toupee. He was nice.  
  
And that was the thing, wasn't it? He pondered this as he went up the steps. He was nice and Bruce was... BRUCE, and she liked that better, somehow. Maybe if he locked her in shackles while she slept and encased her in cement, she'd like him better.  
  
With a sigh, he opened the door to her bedroom, contemplating what horrible things he could do to his kid to win her affection.  
  
Just as he put her long, thin body onto the covers, the computer on her desk beeped and Oracle's floating representation appeared. "Mommy's scary head," as both of the kids had called the Oracle image as toddlers.  
  
"I'm putting Small Fry to bed," Dick informed it.  
  
"Get up here." That's all she said, then Oracle disappeared.  
  
Dick quietly left the room, then rushed up stairs. He hoped whatever it was, he could be done with it in a few hours, or his wife was going to have to come up with a really good excuse why he wasn't on time. It was HER turn to think up something this time.  
  
He opened the door and entered, not sure of what he'd find on the other side. "What's up?"  
  
Barbara didn't even bother to turn around. He swore, he spent the better part of their marriage looking at the back of her head. The only reason he knew what she still looked like was because he'd get his loving wife's face instead of the Oracle head occasionally.  
  
"Scarecrow's in Bludhaven. I didn't want to say anything down there otherwise I'd have the munchkin up here too, telling me `I'm not tired, mommy,' right before she passes out on the floor." Oracle called up some files on the most recent escape. "Apparently, he got out when they were putting Avatar away. Bruce is letting this be your call."  
  
Dick rolled his eyes. "Because he knows I go to work in like three hours. Ok, lets get this show on the road." He had clothes stashed near the station. He could pull this off. "I want eggs and hash browns..." he called behind him as he went for the door.  
  
Yanking it opened, he saw a fully-dressed Robin in front of him.  
  
"Go ahead, say it," Barbara urged.  
  
"Well, I'm NOT tired. Lets go." She did an about face and marched towards the stares that lead to the roof.  
  
Dick stared at her for a moment, then followed. Somehow, Bruce had bottled his attitude, and Mara accidentally drank it instead of baby formula.  
  
* * *  
  
Dick found himself lagging behind her. He wondered if this was why Bruce had stuck behind him so much in his youth. There was a certain sense of wonder in watching her go. Regularly, she was a holy terror. But watching her flying through the air, she looked... well, like a little angel. There was a happy, care-free aspect that reminded him of her mother.  
  
"Hey, hang back a little!" he called as they approached the third location they'd checked in fifteen minutes. God only knew what the Scarecrow wanted in Bludhaven. Besides to make sure that Nightwing got NO sleep tonight.  
  
Hopefully this wasn't another Desmond-torture-Nightwing scheme.  
  
For all he knew, Batman had said hey, why don't you go bug Bludhaven tonight.  
  
Robin slowed in front of Nightwing, and they both came to stop on the roof the chemistry department of one of Bludhaven's public universities. They'd checked a chemical dealer and a pharmaceutical firm already.  
The Scarecrow had escaped without his usual fanfare of fear toxins. This time, he'd simply... slipped away. That meant he needed to restock.  
  
"Movement on the second floor," Robin said, pointing to the window across from their location.  
  
"I go in. You stay here." He swore at himself for being over protective, but decided to get off the roof before she could protest.  
  
"Ok," she said in cheerful compliance.  
  
Dick almost fell on his ass as he prepared to step off the roof. Don't say anything... don't say anything...  
  
"I'll watch your back," she explained. "They come out, I bounce `em."  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief as he jumped. She enjoyed landing on people far too much. Then another thought struck him--was she necessarily safer outside? He had a certain respect suddenly for Bruce putting up with him as a child.  
  
* * *  
  
About ten minutes later, it got noisy in the chemistry department. Robin used the magnification lenses in her mask to try and get a better view, but there wasn't much to see. There was a row of windows on the second floor that were mostly frosted over from the chilly winter night, and beyond dark shapes moving against the red glow of exit signs, there wasn't much to see.  
  
"Oracle?" Robin asked finally. There were three big figures entering the room she was sure her father was in. They looked like they had some pretty big guns. Rifles of all things.  
  
"What?" came a voice in her ear. Mom sounded awfully tired and grumpy.  
  
"Can we have the flat sausage for breakfast? Not the round ones?" She couldn't hear the glass windows shattering above the gunfire. She heard the dieing away of the echoes of the gunfire and the glass hitting the ground.  
  
Patience would probably be the death of her.  
  
"If you two get out of whatever you're in alive, you can have whatever you want for breakfast."  
  
Robin grinned. They were going to get out alive. They always did. That meant flat sausage. "And pancakes. And French toast."  
  
"One or the other."  
  
"You said I could have whatever I wanted." Would someone PLEASE come out of the building so she could kick his butt?  
  
There were a few more crashes. In the darkness, she saw black and blue flying at the three oversized men. There was a sudden silence, and then a siren could be heard in the distance. If they were coming out, it was going to be soon.  
  
"Get through the night and we'll negotiate." The line went dead.  
  
She perched herself on the edge of the building, careful to keep out of sight. Waiting, she prodded the remaining blister on her cheek. She could feel one of them coming, almost. Down the front flight of steps, hitting the landing, taking the second half of the flight... Two cars, probably one campus police and one local police were a block away.  
  
She was ready. She'd been trained by the best. It wasn't arrogant to know that she could handle whatever was coming her way.  
  
As she jumped, she hit the communications device on her belt. "Pancakes, French toast, and waffles!" She declared as she hit the figure that exited the building.  
  
Robin's boots landed on his shoulders, and the thin, wiry frame of Jonathan Crane smashed into the pavement. The grin on Robin's face fell very quickly when the thud of Crane's body was followed by the crunching of glass between said-body and cement.  
  
"Bad tactic!" she called out to Oracle, hoping her mom was still on the other line.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightwing finally dropped the last thick-necked thug. His body fell on top of the black lab table and pushed it three feet, then came to a halt. Crane had gotten out of the supply room with God only knew what, but he wasn't worried--he had backup for a change.  
  
"Umm... Dick?" Oracle said tentatively in his ear as he was trussing the man up.  
  
"Huh?" the man was MORE than a load. Fortunately, the police were coming. He could hear them pulling up on the other side of the building. Wrong entrance, dummies!  
  
"You might wanna check on Robin. Her channel just went dead."  
  
Pushing the heavy body away from him, he rushed to the stairs. He took the flight in two jumps. Landing, he saw a heap of human on the ground in front of him, just beyond the opened double doors of the school. Beneath Robin's black, unfurled cape laid Scarecrow's masked head. Crossing the threshold, he held his breath, seeing the remainders of the noxious fumes rising off their bodies.  
  
Checking both of their vitals, he realized that Crane was well and truly out. So was Robin. He scraped her up into his arms like a sleeping toddler, and took to the roof as quickly as possible. The sounds of the sirens were finally coming around to the right side of the building.  
  
"Oracle, call Doc Leslie. Have her meet us at our house." One night alone with Robin, and he's getting her overdosed on fear gas. It took a gift to be as lousy of a father as he was. "She's unconscious, but she appears to be ok," he said in answer to her unspoken question. "She broke all of his vials of fear gas."  
  
"Shit," Barbara breathed in his ear. "She doesn't do anything half-assed, does she?" She cut off the line for a moment, and Nightwing hauled ass across the roof with his bundle. "She's on her way. Remind me why we do this again."  
  
She didn't even stir in his arms. Under normal circumstances, she or anyone else would be having massive hallucinations right now. It worried him that she was well and truly unconscious. He didn't know what it meant, or what would happen next.  
  
"Test in just how much I can endure before she gives me a heart attack," Dick said breathlessly as he landed on top of his muscle car. He didn't know if it was the pizza or the situation that was causing bile to rise up in his throat with stinging, sickening ferocity.  
  
Continued in part 2  
  
1 


	2. Decisions

Chapter 2: Decisions  
  
Staring at the inert figure buried within purple sheets and navy blue blankets, Dick hedged. "Should I take off, or what?" His daughter hadn't so much as moved since he'd pulled her off of the Scarecrow's back.  
  
"And do what?" Barbara asked from the bedside. "Leslie says she's probably going to just sleep it off. I'm here. Just make sure Jimmy makes the bus for a change, and things'll be fine." Barbara ran a hand through her daughter's hair and pushed it back from her warm little forehead.  
  
They WOULD have to watch her, Barbara knew. But as far as horrible things that could happen in their line of work, this was mild. "Look, you have a chance to be on time for work for once in your life. Doc Leslie is coming back to check on her in an hour or so, and you're just going to be in the way. As usual. She'll be ok."  
  
Frowning, Dick listened to his wife. He circled the bed and kissed her on the cheek. "Fine. But... geeze."  
  
Barbara followed her husband out of the bedroom. "Dick, it isn't your fault. Let's just not even go there, ok?" She knew the way he was. No one in a cape and tights would be out there over and over again if they didn't feel overly responsible for humanity in general. The responsibility ran deeper when it was someone close to you. "What would Bruce say?"  
  
"God, I still have to tell Bruce." He pushed opened his bedroom door and began thinking if he had enough time to take a shower before work, or if he should just wash his face and go.  
  
"He already knows." She followed after him, pulling clothes out drawers as she did so. She needed to get HIM ready, so he could get Jimmy ready. Sometimes it was like having three kids.  
  
"And he's not here?"  
  
"Will you just get a move on?" She threw a clean shirt at him. "Bruce would say `well, Mara, you should have thought about what would be in his coat before you jumped on him.' And then that would be that." She wasn't sure if it necessarily made HER feel better, but it got him out of the house. She didn't thinks she could stand it if he were there all day, angsting over what had happened.  
  
* * *  
  
Leslie came and went, and Mara still didn't wake. Barbara sat with her until mid-morning, until she couldn't stay awake any more. Then she pulled herself into the bed next to her daughter, and curled around her.  
  
They'd often slept like that when Mara was a very small child, and if the girl woke in a fear-induced frenzy, it might give her some comfort. Barbara also didn't want to be far away. They had no idea what state she'd be in, if and when she woke.  
  
Pulling her first-born closer to her, she drifted off into sleep, for the first time in a day and a half.  
  
* * *  
  
Inevitably, Barbara was called out of sleep by the whimpering of her daughter. Babs propped herself up on her shoulder and looked down at her child. Her eyes were still closed, and she didn't thrash. Her only physical protest was her shaking head.  
  
"Hey... hey..." She gently tried to nudge the girl out of sleep, but it didn't work. She didn't think it would. "Mara... come on. It isn't real."  
  
"No..." the little girl muttered. "Where's grandpa? Make him come back. Grandpa..."  
  
Barbara sighed. "Mara... it isn't real. Grandpa's in Gotham. He's at work." Sitting up, she pulled her daughter into her arms and rocked her. "Shh..."  
  
"He has to come back..."  
  
She'd seen Dick go through this, so had Bruce and Tim. Hell, she'd gone through it herself back in her younger days. It wasn't fun. And if she could have spared her child this, she would have.  
  
Barbara's maternal instincts left her practically ready to kill herself. Why had she let this happen? She let her baby go off into the world, and now here she was, going through something she'd never wish on anyone. Biting her lower lip, she sniffed, and tried again to shake her awake--if only so she'd stop crying for Bruce.  
  
Sometimes, you could snap them out of it. Bruce had half a dozen antidotes for a multitude of flavors of fear toxin. Unfortunately, Mara had been exposed to fourteen different vials. It was going to be a long day.  
  
Her insides twisted in knots, listening to her daughter moan. She knew it would be impossible to keep her from the costume, and from Bruce. She probably knew it better than Dick did. It had half-killed her to see her daughter take off, into the fray, the second Tim dropped the mantle of Robin. But she knew that if she didn't let Mara go... she'd lose her.  
  
Fine. If she had to lose her to keep her, so be it. She didn't know what madness would have allowed her to let an eight year old out there. The same madness that had allowed Bruce to do it with Dick. He wasn't a mother, though. She should have known better.  
  
The girl's brow furrowed as she weakly fought her personal demons. "Grandpa... I'll be good..."  
  
Kissing her daughter's feverish forehead, Barbara made a decision.  
  
When all of this was over--she wasn't ever touching that costume again.  
  
Continued in chapter 3 


	3. Evening

Disclaimers in part 1.   
  
Chapter 3: Evening  
**  
  
It took a while, but Mara finally fell back into a more restful sleep. Barbara got herself out of the bed, and logged onto the girl's lap top, not wanting to be idle any more. She started off by trying to find out why the Scarecrow was in Bludhaven, then moved on to pulling the police reports. Maybe it was as simple as the Scarecrow thinking he had friends in Bludhaven, maybe it was more sinister. Either way, Dick and Bruce were going to be finishing this case alone.   
  
The kid's lap top wasn't as 'friendly' or as fast as her equipment up stairs, but she wasn't leaving her baby alone. Barbara had already done far too much of that lately—and it wasn't going to happen any more.   
  
Leaving her kid to be practically raised by Bruce? Was she INSANE? Dick and Tim had already nicknamed her Bruce Junior behind her back. She didn't need Bruce's perspective of the universe getting her little girl killed.   
  
Before she had a real good answer for anything in her life, much less this case, the phone rang. She pulled the receiver of the Superman phone to her ear and wondered why her kid couldn't have any normal heroes, like a drugged-up sports star. "Hello? Grayson residence."   
  
"Mrs. Grayson? This is Ms. Pavin, Mara's guidance councilor."   
  
Barbara resisted the urge to sigh out loud. She'd be questioning what her daughter had done now, but the poor thing hadn't been in school in two days. How dare Bruce let her nearly get her head blown off? "What can I do for you?" Barbara asked with feigned patience.   
  
"Well, we were a little concerned because Mara hasn't been in school since I spoke to her the other day." The woman sounded nice enough—maybe even truly concerned. Barbara just wished she had the strength to deal with this today.   
  
"She's been sick," Barbara explained. "The office has a note from the doctor—she gets a stomach thing now and again." Or at least that was the agreed upon excuse. Dick's excuse had been chronic sinus problems. Tim hadn't had one, hence the frequent trips to the guidance office. She—she had been old enough to not need excuses when she started down this life-path.   
  
"I'm sorry to hear that. We were just concerned that perhaps her stomach ailment is exacerbated by stress or other things like that."   
  
Barbara looked at the inert figure in the bed. "Don't worry. We've had that looked into. As far as they can tell, it's not. It's just… sometimes the medication works better than other times."  
  
The phone conversation was short after that. Barbara arranged to have homework picked up, assured the woman that Jimmy had NO health problems that they needed to be aware of, then hung up.  
  
Pushing the laptop away from her. Barbara put her head on the desk and cried.   
  
***  
  
After a lot of thinking that morning, Dick opted to not take a lunch, and then sneak out early. Coming home, he found the six year old sitting on the front porch, Indian style with his backpack still on his back. The kid was obviously pouting.   
  
"What's up, Sport?" he asked as he sat on the cold boards next to the young man.   
  
"Mara's stupid," the boy complained.   
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. That meant she was feeling better. "What'd she do to you this time?"   
  
Jimmy wiped his nose on his coat sleeve. "She stole mom! When I came home mom was up in her room, and mom didn't make me a snack or nuthin. And it aint cause she's working! Mara 'ducted her!"   
  
That news didn't make Dick happy for a multitude of reasons. He wrapped an arm around his youngest. "Well, Mara needs mom today. She's not doing too good. How's about I make you something to eat?" He worked really hard to make sure Jimmy didn't feel out because he wasn't in 'the business' yet. He could spare a few minutes to make him a sandwich and ask how his day went.   
  
Grudgingly the boy agreed. Getting to his feet, Dick grabbed the handle on the backpack and lifted his son to his feet by it. He smiled up at Dick with relieved eyes. "You're my pal, dad."   
  
Dick gently shoved him into the front door then closed it behind him before giving Jimmy a ruffle of the hair. He hated when people did it to him as a kid, but now days, it was too tempting. The kid had a head of bushy red hair. What was he SUPPOSED to do? Let it go untouched?   
  
He made two sandwiches for the boy, careful to make them equal parts peanut butter and jelly while he listened to the six year old complain about everything under the sun. No wonder he felt jipped when Barbara couldn't give him this time—he seemed to need the release before he exploded in a hailstorm of dangerous pranks and temper tantrums.   
  
Jimmy had recently discovered different conductive materials, and Mara was often getting shocked by something in the house just by touching it, if she didn't watch her step. Then he'd have a war on his hands… and that wasn't fun, was it?   
  
Kids were so much cuter when they couldn't talk or get out of their carrier seats.   
  
"Ok, Sport. I'm gonna go upstairs for a few minutes," he told Jimmy after the boy was finally quieted from his diatribe about how he really should be allowed to push bullies who picked on him in the mud by his rather engrossing sandwich. "You eat, then I'll let you come into the attic and we can battle the forces of darkness for a little bit before I gotta go out, ok?"   
  
The boy nodded, licking peanut butter off the roof of his mouth.   
  
At least Dick had ONE kid he hadn't let down today.   
  
Before climbing the stairs, he kicked his shoes off. Tearing his tie off, Dick pondered that he'd swore from a very young age he'd never wear one of those blasted things. When he was younger, he swore it cut off the circulation to Bruce's head and that's why he acted funny in public. Now look at him.   
  
Hanging the tie around the top of the railing, he dashed for the door with the sign upon it that read "Entering Punishable By Death", printed in large block letters on laser printer paper. He knocked then turned the knob without waiting for a response.   
  
Mara was crying in her mother's arms. Dick sighed. He should have called off today. "How's Small Fry doing?"   
  
"All she's done is call for Bruce all day." Her face was a little red. He hoped Babs was ok too. He didn't know how he'd handle things if she weren't ok too.   
  
"You talked to him? I figured he'd be on my ass already, telling me how I'm completely incompetent or something." Or at least threatening to take her back to Gotham and never let him see his kid ever again or something.   
  
"No. Not so much as a peep. But I AM going to talk to him tonight." She continued stroking a feverish head. He knew her well enough to know that if she was acting this incredibly reserved as she was now, something was up. He didn't say anything straight away, though.   
  
Instead, he sat down on the bed next to them. He kissed his girl's hot forehead and told her everything was going to be alright. If Babs hadn't gotten through to her yet, nothing he said would probably do anything, but he felt compelled to try. "Babydoll, dad's here. It's just a bad dream. Grandpa's ok. Everyone is ok."   
  
"Daddy…" she muttered, falling deeper asleep from shear exhaustion. "Save Grandpa. Bring him back…" her head fell back against Barbara's arm, and she was asleep again. He suddenly understood why his wife was having a hell of a day.   
  
"Look, I'm going to call him. There's no reason for her to be upset, when he can fix this." It killed him that Bruce could fix it, but after the way he'd screwed things up last night, well, he deserved a little humility thrown in his face by his father.   
  
"Yeah. Get him here," she replied quietly. "He and I are going to talk."   
  
"About him not checking on her?" Babs must have been super-pissed to want to talk to him about it. Usually she left things go, when it came to Mara's training and the partnership thingy.   
  
"About her retirement," Barbara whispered.   
  
"RETIREMENT? Come on. She's not THAT bad. She rushed in headlong. It was my fault any ways for not watching her. Bruce'll retrain her and beat the impulsiveness out of her. You'll see…" Why was Barbara glaring at him like that?  
  
"Dick… she's our baby, and I am not letting her get hurt, ever again."   
  
Dick blinked twice, trying to comprehend what she was saying. "Wait. You're the one who said she was training with the best. You're the one who said I was an obsessive, controlling parent—that if we didn't let her go her own way, she'd end up rebelling against us and we'd loose what little bit we have her in our lives. I know you want to go all 'mom' on her ass, but she wont stand for this."   
  
Barbara adjusted her daughter's weight in her arms. "She'll get over it. Even if she doesn't—I don't care. I'd rather have her alive and hating me than dead and giving me grudging respect."   
  
There was a silence that filled the room after that. Dick let it grow and grow, because he knew he couldn't say anything to that. He knew it wasn't an argument he could win. "Look, don't say anything to Bruce about it yet. When she's better—we'll discuss it." Barbara looked like she wanted to bite his head off right then and there. "Look, I'll talk about it with you, then we'll talk about it with her. Maybe… explain our reasons to her. You know?" Did he just say OUR reasons? This was the first time in recorded history he had manipulated his wording and lied to his wife. But he really needed her to just cool it right now.   
  
"FINE. But if you botch it up--"  
  
Rising, Dick went to the door. He kept his back to her so she wouldn't see his wince. "Look, just give it some time, and we'll be calm and cool about this, it won't blow up in our faces." What he meant was—give it some time and don't rush into anything you'll regret later. And if he knew anything, Mara would make them regret doing something of this nature to her. "I'll be right back."   
  
He went into his bedroom and picked up the phone. As he dialed, he unbuttoned his shirt.   
The phone rang twice, then picked up. "What?" Bruce asked.   
  
"Hi, nice talking to you. Your granddaughter isn't doing too well, by the way. Thanks for asking." Dick was NOT in a good mood, suddenly.   
  
"Leslie said she was sleeping," Bruce said defensively.   
  
"Except when she wakes up asking for you," Dick replied smartly. "Why don't you come over for a little bit before it gets dark. Just let her know you're ok."   
  
It was so quiet; he couldn't even hear Bruce breathing. "I'm busy."   
  
"Bruce, come on. The kid just sucked on fourteen vials of that junk—and you of ALL people should know how that stuff messes you up. And YOU have the burden of being the object of her nightmares. The least you could do is just comfort her a LITTLE bit."   
  
"Dick, I'm sorry, I'm unavailable."   
  
The line went dead.   
  
Without thought, Dick slammed the receiver down. When Dick had needed the proverbial bitchslap because he was being an obsessive parent, Bruce had been more than happy to comply. Now what the hell had gotten in to Bruce?   
  
So much for SOMEONE being consistent with parental advice.  
  
He changed his clothes, then sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the battered phone. Tenatively, he dialed again, waiting for his father's quipped hello.   
  
The phone rang five times, and he finally hung up. He was calling a CELL PHONE. How could Bruce be away from it?   
  
Dick got a new idea. He'd done it as a child, and he could do it now.   
  
He called, let it ring four times then hung up. He rinsed and repeated—seven times. Finally Bruce picked up.   
  
"You're petulant," Bruce said by way of greeting.   
  
Dick frowned. "Well, I had to make you pick up."   
  
"You're acting like a child."   
  
"You think I'm a bad parent," Dick said accusingly.  
  
Bruce sighed on the other end. "Do you have a guilty conscience, Richard?"   
  
Dick ran a hand through his hair. "All I'm saying is that you think I screwed up. Fine. I screwed up. I should have thought ahead and knew what she was going to do wouldn't be the brightest idea. YOU would have thought of it. But is it right to punish her like this? All she needs to know is that you're ok, and maybe she'll quiet down a little. Ok? I mean—don't punish her because I screwed up."   
  
"Dick I don't have time for this conversation."   
  
"Can you just talk to her on the phone? SOMETHING. ANYTHING." He was begging, and he knew it.   
  
"If it's any consolation," Bruce began impatiently. "I would have done the same thing. It's not you. I have some training modules in mind that'll help that…"   
  
Dick cut him off. "Barb wants to pull her out of the suit. Look, we can't deal with that right now. Can't you just talk--" the line went dead again. He threw the phone on the nightstand, and it didn't even touch the receiver. "Ok. We can play it like that," Dick mutter with frustration.   
  
He marched back to his daughter's room. The girl was even more restless now. "Gotta… go home. Lemme go home…" She was red-faced and teary eyed… and completely unaware of what was going on around her.   
  
Barbara looked like she was at a breaking point as well.   
  
"Look, Bruce is being a pain in the ass. I'm going to go find out what his problem is." But he felt guilty for doing that. He knew she needed a break. He knew she needed some time to step back and think about what she was really expecting to happen. "Gimme… like half an hour. And then I'll take over for you. Batgirl can watch Bludhaven tonight."   
  
Barbara looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't.   
  
"And all the rest of the stuff—we'll definitely take care of it when things calm down a little, OK?" He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her head. "We just gotta do one thing at a time right now." Dick was so proud of himself for being the reasonable one. If only everyone else would work with him on this.   
  
***  
  
Dick followed Batman around the cave through the older man's evening routine. "Come on—just pick up the damned phone and talk to her," he pleaded for the fifty-thousandth time.   
  
"I don't have time. I have leads to follow up with on the Scarecrow case." He opened the door to the weapons vault. It was going to take extra time tonight. Usually Robin did this while he was suiting up. He was already behind schedule.   
  
"I thought this was MY case. Unless you really DO think I botched the whole thing up."   
  
Batman reloaded certain contents of his belt, but didn't respond.   
  
"BRUCE!" Dick was practically screaming himself hoarse.   
  
"I'll take care of it. You need to go home." Batman noticed that the contents of one of the lockers was running thin. That didn't comply with the inventory that had been done last week. "And I'd search Robin's room for flash and gas pellets. When she's awake, inform her that those are NOT for her personal use in the war against her little brother."   
  
Dick was the reasonable one. He had to just keep telling himself that. "Why don't you tell her yourself! You're such an asshole, Bruce. If you don't think I screwed up, and you're not blaming yourself, why the hell won't you just go see her, or pick up the damned phone. The amount of time you spend ignoring me would be a lot less than just calling her. Then I'll be off your back, and you can take my case off of me and that'll be that."   
  
"Dick, I don't feel like rehashing your insecurities. I'm not taking the case off of you because you're incompetent. I'm taking it off of you because you have more important things to do tonight. She's YOUR daughter, not mine." Batman did the same thing to Dick as he did to Robin—the thing he did to Dick when HE had been Robin—he put his hand on his son's chest, pushed him gently against the wall, and exited out of the narrow space.   
  
"She's YOUR PARTNER, not mine! Pick up the damned phone, you stubborn old man!" he scurried out of the makeshift room and back behind Batman, standing practically at the edge of his cape. "Come ON! She keeps ASKING for you. She keeps saying she wants to go home! To HERE! To GOTHAM. She's a hell of a lot less our kid right now than she is YOURS. Suck it up and deal with that responsibility." He stopped when Batman got in the Car and slammed the door. "Fine," Dick hollared to the tinted window. "FINE. Maybe she SHOULDN'T be your partner any more—if this is what you think of her."   
  
The only response Dick got was the car engine growling to life, and the rush of wind as the car sped away.   
  
Continued in part 4 


	4. The Face of God

sorry i'm sooo delinquent in posting--had a bit of a personal crisis,  
  
then i started a longer fic thats taking up some time... hopefully  
  
when it's done, you'll like it, and the time i put in :) Till then,  
  
here's sumptin to tide ya over wif.  
  
Disclaimers in part one  
  
Chapter 4: The Face of God  
  
When Dick came home from Gotham, Barbara was sitting at the kitchen  
  
table, staring into her coffee, as if it had some answers for  
  
her. "Hey," he said quietly, hoping not to disturb her. He tossed his  
  
coat over a chair, then sat down next to her. "Small Fry asleep?" he  
  
asked.  
  
"No. Tim's sitting with her," she said simply.  
  
Dick smiled, giving her a pat on the back. "I forgot he still lives  
  
here." Tim had recently gotten his ass off the couch for the first  
  
time in a year and a half, and now he was spending more time with  
  
Stephanie Brown than with the Graysons. He liked having his couch  
  
back, but there had been some good points to having an in-house  
  
babysitter.  
  
"I take it Bruce isn't coming," she said mildly as she picked up her  
  
coffee. Dick had a feeling she'd been thoroughly traumatized for the  
  
day.  
  
"No." There were times when he really, truly hated his father. "Why  
  
don't you get some sleep? If Tim's here, then Spoiler's free. She can  
  
keep a cap on Bludhaven for a while." He hated to admit it, but  
  
Stephanie was OK at pinch-hitting when you needed her. "I'll watch  
  
the munchkin and make sure Jimmy does his homework."  
  
Barbara's shoulders sagged a little. "Yeah. I guess I should try to  
  
take a nap or something."  
  
He had a feeling she'd sleep the whole night, given the chance.  
  
"Sure. And we'll see how she's doing in the morning." He didn't say  
  
anything about Barbara's former ascertation that Mara leave the suit.  
  
He was having his own internal battle over it. Dick knew the only way  
  
she'd let go of the suit is if they pried it out of her cold, dead  
  
hands. He did, however, question just whether Bruce was good for her.  
  
Maybe… she wouldn't mind being HIS sidekick.  
  
Seeing his wife safely to bed, he turned back towards Mara's room.  
  
Jimmy was standing outside the door with his arms crossed, staring at  
  
him. "What's up, Champ?"  
  
"Don't go in there," he said angrily.  
  
Dick ruffled the boy's hair, trying to hide his disappointed  
  
sigh. "Jimmy, she needs us right now."  
  
"She doesn't WANT anyone. Well, except Bruce." Was that jealousy that  
  
Dick detected in his son's voice? What was he jealous over, that Mara  
  
was getting attention, or that she wanted Bruce?  
  
"Jimmy… I know the last few days have seriously sucked. But have to  
  
do this, ok? And you have homework you HAVE to do too. So work on  
  
that, ok? Then Timmy can take you in the basement and teach you some  
  
more kicks, ok?" Please, Barb, don't have heard that. He didn't need  
  
to be in trouble with her too.  
  
"Think he will?" Jimmy asked hopefully.  
  
Dick nodded. He'd MAKE Tim teach him something. The kid was  
  
completely USELESS, except for drinking all of his beer and eating  
  
him out of house and home. The least he could do was pass on some of  
  
the knowledge he was letting go to waste.  
  
The boy smiled. "Ok. I'll do it. Just `cause I want proof that Timmy  
  
can move."  
  
"Heck, I spend a lot of time looking for a PULSE. And you want him to  
  
MOVE, too?" Dick grinned and pushed the boy towards his bedroom. The  
  
boy was always good for his mood, even when Jimmy was  
  
having `Absolute Angst' moments. It gave him a little bit of  
  
fortitude for what he knew was coming.  
  
Seeing Jimmy securely in his room and getting ready to open his book  
  
bag, Dick went back to the room with the no trespassing sign on the  
  
door. "Jimmy wants to know if you still got Game," Dick said casually  
  
as he opened the door.  
  
Tim looked up from the floor where he was sitting, staring at the  
  
wallpaper. His daughter was unconscious and unmoving in the bed.  
  
"I don't have anything, man," Tim answered. He crawled off the floor  
  
and into the chair next to the desk. "Lemme guess, we're on our own  
  
tonight," Tim said bitterly. The partnership thing had ended on not-  
  
so-good terms with Bruce for the young man.  
  
"Are there ANY of us that he didn't completely SUCK towards?" Dick  
  
thought out loud. "And she just wants HIM, and he's being… well,  
  
Bruce." Sighing, he sat down beside her on the bed. "This is like the  
  
antithesis of what she needs."  
  
Tim scratched his stubbled chin, not saying anything. He didn't know  
  
if there was anything he COULD say. Bruce had picked a great time to  
  
start acting like Bruce. At least he'd waited until Dick and Tim were  
  
older. He was giving Mara the cold shoulder NOW. And really, could a  
  
sick ten year old honestly comprehend WHY Bruce was doing what he was  
  
doing?  
  
"Way to confirm the kid's worst fears," Dick muttered. Her forehead  
  
was cooler now, if that meant anything.  
  
"We should beat him up, or something," Tim offered helpfully.  
  
"Yeah. Get in line. It forms behind me and goes around the planet."  
  
Dick DID want to pound Bruce into the ground right now, for walking  
  
away from his partner, but Bruce was in `avoidance mode' and it'd  
  
take a while before anyone caught up to him. Damnit, Dick screamed in  
  
his head. He did this to ALL of his partners.  
  
The two former Robins regarded the current one as she began to stir  
  
again. It was time for another round of `console the inconsolable  
  
crying child.'  
  
"Hey," Dick muttered as he scraped her into his lap. "Dad's here. And  
  
Timmy's here. You wanna wake up and play with us?" He didn't know if  
  
talking to her BEFORE she got hysterical would help, but she could  
  
darned well try.  
  
"Yeah, you can't play if you're all angsty and stuff," Tim stated.  
  
Suddenly, her small, thin hand grabbed hold of Dick's shirt sleeve,  
  
and her eyes opened wide, like two burning suns. "I gotta go to  
  
Gotham."  
  
Dick and Tim regarded each other a moment. That was certainly the  
  
most coherent she'd been since last night. "Mara, you don't need to  
  
go to Gotham. Grandpa's ok. He left for patrol already. YOU need to  
  
stay and rest up a little."  
  
"I gotta go," she muttered fearfully, trying to throw the blanket off  
  
of her. Dick and Tim sat on either side of her, preventing her from  
  
escaping though. "No. I have to go. I gotta go, daddy. I have ta."  
  
Weakly, she tried to pull herself over Dick by grabbing on to his leg  
  
and dragging herself over him. He wrapped on arm around her and  
  
pushed her back down. "Daddy…" she whimpered, then started crying.  
  
"Ok. Listen… lets call Grandpa, Ok?" Scraping her up, he sat in the  
  
chair at her desk, connecting to Oracle's systems, then directly to  
  
Batman.  
  
"Why can't I go?" she moaned.  
  
"WHAT?" Batman's voice asked through the computer's speakers  
  
suddenly.  
  
"Mara's awake. Why don't you just talk to her for a minute."  
  
The girl leaned across her father and grabbed hold of the lap top,  
  
dragging it towards her. "Grandpa?" she asked, disbelievingly.  
  
"Robin, I want you to stay off this line until you're one-hundred  
  
percent, do you hear me?"  
  
Anxiously, she leaned towards the screen. "But--"  
  
"No butts," he told her. "That is your objective. You're not to  
  
bother your parents about wanting to talk to me, and you are not to  
  
come to Gotham until you are fit for the field."  
  
The red icon that represented the connection vanished from the  
  
screen. Instantly, the girl started sobbing.  
  
"Bruce is the biggest asshole in the entire world," Tim marveled from  
  
behind them.  
  
"No he's not," the girl muttered through her tears. "Take it back,"  
  
she said defensively, scowling back at Tim. She tumbled off of her  
  
father's lap and over to the young man, grabbing him by the  
  
hair. "Take it back!" she cried out between sobs.  
  
Dick grabbed her again, and her legs kicked out. "Robin! Knock it  
  
off!" he ordered in as firm of a voice as he could muster. "You heard  
  
what Batman said." Next he turned his disapproving gaze to Tim  
  
Drake. "And don't say stuff about Bruce in front of her," he ordered.  
  
He didn't know if he was sounding like Bruce or Barbara right now. He  
  
might have been the crazy parent, but she was definitely the mean  
  
one. And Bruce was just… well, an asshole.  
  
"Geeze, ok, I'm sorry I said anything!" Tim answered defensively when  
  
one bare foot connected with his chest before Dick could pull her  
  
away. She was still pretty weak from everything she'd taken into her  
  
body in the last day or so, but she was feisty.  
  
He remembered when she was a toddler and she'd want to go running  
  
off, instead of sticking with him, and what he did then. He tucked  
  
her under his arm and carried her away from Tim. "Don't make me smack  
  
you," he warned in a tone oddly similar to Barb's `parenting' tone.  
  
The door swung open. "Is Mara gonna get spanked?" Jimmy asked  
  
hopefully. "Can I watch?"  
  
Could Dick's life be any more complicated? "Jimmy, get out of here,  
  
ok? Go wait in the basement for Tim."  
  
Hopefully, the boy skipped off. Tim, on the other hand, didn't share  
  
the sentiment. "I don't DO that stuff any more!"  
  
"Teach the kid something. I don't care what. Consider it penance for  
  
getting Mara all riled up." For good measure he gave her behind a  
  
slight smack. Her legs stopped kicking out behind him.  
  
Shaking his head, Tim fled the room before Dick turned The Evil One  
  
loose on him again.  
  
Mara rubbed her nose and let out one more kick before Dick tossed her  
  
onto the bed. "Look, just CALM DOWN. I KNOW you want to go to Gotham.  
  
But you have to stay here, ok? Grandpa'll be fine for one night."  
  
Could he actually convince her of that? And how much longer could it  
  
possibly take before all of this was run out of her system?  
  
"Lemme go home," she cried pitifully. "I wanna go home."  
  
Dick wasn't sure what to do. Last night, before the botched encounter  
  
with the Scarecrow, they'd been bonding. He thought she could at  
  
least to stand to be living there now. "Mara, THIS is home, ok? You  
  
live HERE."  
  
"But that's home. With grandpa. Grandpa needs me. Lemme go…"  
  
Getting tired of dealing with her thrashing, he put his arm around  
  
her and pulled her back to his chest. "Look, just tell me why THAT is  
  
home, and this isn't?" Was he really ready for the answer?  
  
"Cause it IS, ok? It is! Lemme go." Fortunately, she was getting a  
  
little tired. Her red cheeks inflated and deflated again in  
  
frustration as she huffed and struggled against him.  
  
"I'll let you go to Gotham," he said loudly. She stopped moving. "IF  
  
you can give me one good reason why THAT is home, and this ISN'T."  
  
"Cause grandpa's there," she said with simple reverence.  
  
"That doesn't make it home. We're your parents," he reiterated. "I  
  
thought we went through all of this last night."  
  
"But he's GRANDPA," she sputtered—amazed that it would be an  
  
issue. "He's BATMAN," she said, echoing her awe-filled tone from  
  
earlier. This was going to really SUCK if Barb tried to yank her out  
  
of the suit right now—the girl was hooked.  
  
Did it count that he was Nightwing? That he had his own city to  
  
protect? That he was the LEADER of the Titans? Probably not to HIS  
  
kid. She worshiped strictly at the altar of the Bat.  
  
Continued in Chapter 5 


	5. Alone

"I wanna go to Gotham now," Mara cried miserably. "You said one good reason."  
  
Dick still had one arm around her chest, clamping her arms to her sides so she couldn't try to get away. This was getting tiring, going through this with her. No wonder Barb had been half-crazed when he'd come back from Gotham. "Mmm… well, it was an OK reason," Dick said lightly. "But you need to do better."  
  
"BETTER? It's Gotham!" the girl reiterated forcefully. "Grandpa's there, and it's Gotham."  
  
"And this is Bludhaven, and you go to PS159 in Bludhaven, and I work here."  
  
"SO? It's not Gotham. And Grampy's in Gotham too," she pointed out, as if thinking of it for the first time. "And Alfie."  
  
"Your mom an' me are here," Dick pointed out. "You think you could hang around here 'cause we're here, and we'd miss you if you left?" It was strange—it was like some sort of irrational parody of the conversation they'd had just the night before, when she'd attempted to run away.  
  
"I like grampa more," Mara said darkly. "And he likes me more, and… and…" suddenly her face twisted. "Why doesn't he want me? It's 'cause I was bad."  
  
"Mara, he said he doesn't want you in Gotham 'till you're ready to work. He didn't say he didn't want you permanently." He rocked her a little. "You're his special little pal. You get to go to the moon with him, and you get to stay out late with him. But you can't do that right now."  
  
The girl rubbed her eyes on the sleeve of her nightshirt, then rubbed her nose vigorously. "You should make him let me. I can kick everybody's butt."  
  
Dick actually had to laugh at that. She might even think that right now. "Honey, you couldn't kick the broad side of a barn right now."  
  
"Why won't he talk to me on the phone?" she asked. "He talks to me on the phone." Yesterday she called him at work and he scolded her and told her to go back to class, but he didn't hang up on her like he did tonight.  
  
"Hon, I don't know what's crawled up his butt and died," Dick said sympathetically. "It happens with Bruce sometimes." He brushed her hair away from her forehead, and checked both of her red cheeks to see how warm they were. The feaver had broken, but she still wasn't entirely herself. "Just give it a little time."  
  
"Wanna go now."  
  
"You're a real whiner, you know that?"  
  
"I'm not a whiner."  
  
"Whiner."  
  
She weakly punched him in the arm. "Not a whiner. Just… wanna go back there."  
  
Dick was so happy that she was finally calming down a little. "I know you do. But you know Grandpa can take care of himself, right? And Cassie's there. If mom finds out that he's in ANY trouble, she'll send Cassandra in. So he'll be ok without you for just one night."  
  
The girl sighed, twisting in his arms a little and staring out the window. "I know. He doesn't need me."  
  
"Now hey, I didn't say that. Just that he'd be ok without you for one night. We gotta get you rested and well-fed so you're ready to go pow, zap, zowee." He pinched her nose. "And… before you go back out with him, we'll give you a trial run with me. You can show me that you're going to think before you jump on people. How does that sound?" He decided to slowly break her into the idea of maybe hanging around Bludhaven longer than she anticipated. Some of his anger with Bruce for abandoning his partner was dying off, but it still left him with the resolve that she stick around someone who wasn't a complete idiot when it came to family.  
  
'Great,' Dick thought. 'Who am I kidding. She ran away to get away from ME.' Now she wanted to run back to someone who really didn't want her right now. The poor kid must have felt so… displaced.  
  
"Dunno," Mara admitted lazily, her anger and resolve dying away.  
  
"It'll be fun. You'll fly with me for a little bit, and we'll getcha back into shape. You'll be better than one hundred percent when you get back into Gotham." He kissed her forehead. "It'll be like a little party. Before you go back to your boss and the grind." If he could get her to see that Bludhaven was cool… he had a fighting chance of getting her to stay.  
  
"Wanna go back to the grind…" but her resolve was waining. What dad said sounded… reasonable. If grandpa wanted her. If she was still welcome in Gotham. "He'll take me back, right?"  
  
Dick smiled. "Hey, be thankful you get to do something fun like fly with me. When I was your age, and I got banged up, I'd be in the cave for WEEKS until he was satisifed I was well enough to be out there."  
  
For the first time, Mara turned to look at her father. She looked his face over, trying to imagine him as a little Robin. "In the cave? Alfie says you can't stay down there all the time 'cause there's no light."  
  
"I didn't spend ALL my time down there. Geeze. Everybody thinks Bruce locked me away in a cage or something when I was done for the night." He smiled rubbing her back. "Just while he was out on patrol."  
  
"No night air?"  
  
"No night air. Now isn't Bludhaven sounding better and better?"  
  
"I guess." She didn't sound very satisified. "Can mom make him come over for dinner? Grampy too?"  
  
"It's late for dinner," Dick stated. "Tomorrow maybe. If Grampy isn't busy." Pulling the sheet off of her bed, he wrapped her in it and picked her up. "We'll get you some dinner now though. I hope you don't mind jello. Doc Leslie said that's all for you till we're sure you're not gonna barf it up."  
  
"Not gonna barf it up. Sausage Pizza." She put her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped her legs round him, carrying her the way he used to when she was a tired toddler.  
  
Taking her down into the kitchen, he sat her at the table and pulled out a bowl of green Jello. "Come on, me an' Jimmy made this for you. You have to try it a little."  
  
"Test it for rat poison first." She folded her arms on the table and put her head on it. "Pizza. Just plain pizza."  
  
Getting out two bowls, he sat down across from her. "Ok. But you have to eat this first, ok? And just to prove your brother isn't trying to kill you, I'll eat some before you do." He spooned some out and ate it, straight from the bowl. "No internal bleeding, no siezures, I think it's going to be ok." Using the same spoon, he scraped her a glob of wiggling emerald gelatin and flung it into a bowl. "Give it a shot," he said, filling his own bowl.  
  
"Will I get pizza if I do?"  
  
Dick nodded. He watched her contemplate the Jello for a minute before slowly digging her spoon into it and eating a healthy sized chunk. Convinced it wouldn't kill her, she ate the rest of it slowly. He had a feeling she still didn't have a stomach for food, but she was too stubborn to admit it just yet.  
  
He swung his chair around the table and sat next to her, leaning closer to the little girl and her cereal bowl of gelatin. "Mara… can we talk?"  
  
"If I get pizza."  
  
He tousled her hair, unable to contain himself. "Ok. Pizza. If you tell me what your bad dreams were about."  
  
Color seemed to instantly flush from her face. "I don't remember," she said unconvincingly.  
  
"I have a feeling you do remember." He hated it when his kids lied to him.  
  
"Just… bad stuff."  
  
"About Gotham? About Grandpa?"  
  
The girl squirmed. "About… stuff." Her father's arm wrapped around her, but she still didn't wish to tell. She felt uncomfortable. Like sitting in front of the guidance counselor, afraid she'd tell something she ought not.  
  
"One of your mom's bad dreams was about her father finding out she was Batgirl in a bad way—namely her going splat all over the place and grampy just getting a body back. Believe it or not… one of MY worst dreams was being second string to Tim. Don't ask how THAT happened. There's the usual spiders and heights and rats and stuff. That's not so bad. It's all the weird stuff with people you love in it that freaks you out. And it's ok, because ALL of us have been there," he explained.  
  
"What does grandpa have nightmares about?" she asked calmly.  
  
"He doesn't talk about them much," Dick admitted, then realized he was giving her permission to be close-mouthed. "But… it's better if you talk about it," he followed with quickly.  
  
"I don't want to tell."  
  
"Remember back in the day when it was cool to hang around the Titans before you grew up and became a little Justice League groupie?"  
  
"HEY!"  
  
"Remember when I ordered Uncle Roy to tell me why he was upset when he got back from his vacation? This is the same thing. Batman might be your boss, but I still out rank you. So fess up, Small Fry."  
  
Putting her spoon down, Mara let her hands fall into the lap. She bit her lip, thinking. "You promise not to tell anyone?"  
  
"I'll think about it," he informed her.  
  
"It… wasn't a dream at first. Like a bad one. It was just a bad feeling. And… and then later it was dreams, and then I woke up and it was like they were still in my head, and the bad feeling's still there…"  
  
Dick couldn't help it, he pulled her into his lap. "Mara… I know what it's like. Tell me what they were about. And that's an order," he said gently.  
  
Her eyes grew red and wet, making the blue stand out more. Her icy eyes looked up at him, sorrowful and pleading, but he didn't relent. She needed to do this. "That no one was here."  
  
"No one was here?"  
  
"Everybody was gone. Grampy and grandpa and Alfie and you and mom and Tim and Cassie, and even stupid Stephanie who lets Timmy touch her boobies and Jimmy wasn't here either."  
  
"Tim's groping his girlfriend in front of you kids?" Dick asked angrily.  
  
Mara blushed a little, losing some of her self consciousness. A few tears dribbled out of her eyes. "Well, I wasn't supposed to be watching."  
  
He kissed her forehead. "Then don't watch. You know we're not going anywhere, right?" So why the hell had she wanted Bruce so badly? If she was afraid of losing everyone?  
  
"Yeah… I guess."  
  
"We're you're parents. You know we're not going to leave you anywhere, or abandon you. And if you're in a burning building, I'm going to not let you burn up, you know what I mean?" Hence the tossing out of the window that had begun this whole horrible escapade.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Mara… no one's going anywhere."  
  
"You could! You don't know that!"  
  
He wiped the tears off of her cheek. "Mara… if you're afraid we're all going somewhere, why do you want grandpa? Isn't he disappearing too?" Maybe there really wasn't any logic behind it. Who knew what types of fears all those vials of toxin were supposed to induce. Perhaps she was mixed in the head over it.  
  
"Cause… Cause you guys don't have to stay. But he's my partner and we're supposed to stick together… only we're not sticking together right now, cause he won't let me in Gotham." Suddenly, her head pressed to his shoulder, and Dick could feel his shirt growing wet.  
  
Maybe Bruce wasn't as big of a jerk as he appeared to be. "Ooooohkay. I'm beginning to understand a few things, I think. Grandpa's just looking out for you. He'd doing what good partners do. He wants you to get all better, is all." And to realize no one was going anywhere, Dick figured out. How the hell did Bruce know that that was what her fear was?  
  
"It still feels like everybody's going to go away," the girl admitted. "And I'll just be all by myself and no one will be around at all." She clung tightly to her father, afraid it would come true. It seemed so much scarier now that she had said it out loud.  
  
"Mara, you have to know that even if something happens to one of us… everyone else in the family will still be there." She looked up into his eyes, and he realized that wasn't what she was worried about, really. "And none of us would ever… EVER abandon you intentionally. There was an intensity in her red little eyes that searched him with neither belief nor denial of what he was saying.  
  
Kids were such a perfect trial, Dick decided, holding her head between his hands. "Martha Ann Grayson. You look at me, and you listen. You are a monster. You're devious and not to be trusted. We all know that. We know you're pig-headed, crass and a complete social misfit." He kissed her forehead. "We know that, and we still love you. It's what makes you… well, you. We are NEVER going to give up on you, and we're never going to turn our back on you. And we're never going to up and leave you. Because we love you. And for all those faults, you're also the best little butt-kicker, smart, funny, loyal to a fault, and got a heart and a work ethic to match. We're all glad we have you on our team, and we're glad we have you in our family, ok?"  
  
Slowly, her lips pulled back in a tiny smile. Grateful hope began to light in her eyes. "You're gonna keep me?" she asked.  
  
Dick squeezed her. "Geeze. Yes. We're going to keep you. No matter what." He crushed her against his chest and rocked just a little bit. "The day you were born, I held you just like this, and told you I'd always be here for you. And I said I'd try to be the best dad I could be. And it's not being a very good dad if you just abandon your kid, right? So me an' your Cheese Head brother an' your mom're gonna be right here."  
  
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, a lot of the bite taken out of her. She felt safer and more secure than she had in a while. "Ok," she whispered. "You an' me'll have fun. Nightwing and Robin. And it'll be… fun." Her eyes closed. So much for pizza.  
  
"Nightwing and Robin. The greatest team-up since… Laurel and Hardy. But you get to be the straight man. Ok?" He kissed her hair, and she nodded contently. A few seconds later, she as asleep again.  
  
"Richard John Grayson," Barbara whispered coldly. "You did NOT just tell her what I think you did."  
  
His wife wheeled into the kitchen, and the surprise on his face was the same as an admission of guilt. "I just… we have to keep her calm, right? And she's not crying any more…"  
  
"She is NOT going back out there."  
  
"Shh…" Dick whispered. "She doesn't need to hear this."  
  
But Barbara knew she'd been lied to. "You had no intention of pulling her out of the suit."  
  
"Babs… this is her life."  
  
"Not any more, it isn't," she answered coldly.  
  
All Dick could do was pray to God she didn't wake, and that Barbara didn't continue. He was about to fight an uphill battle, and he knew it was going to be hell the whole way.  
  
Continued in part six… 


End file.
